


3:14 AM

by sageackerman



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Biting, Childhood Friends, Consensual Sex, Edging, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hair-pulling, Marking, Modern AU Armin Arlert, Modern Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, One Shot, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Shameless Smut, Switch Armin Arlert, Switching, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, thigh riding, wholesome smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:16:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29718453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sageackerman/pseuds/sageackerman
Summary: He'd promised you that he'd be back by 1 in the morning -- instead, he stumbles in at 3:14 AM to find you tangled in his sheets. He tries to hold himself back, he swears -- but Armin realizes that he's been holding back for far too long.
Relationships: Armin Arlert/Reader
Comments: 14
Kudos: 111





	3:14 AM

**Author's Note:**

> do you know HOW MANY one-shots i've kept stashed away in the depths of my brain?  
> PLEASE keep in mind this is my first time writing smut, don't judge me too harshly please!!

The room is dark and still. The only thing stopping it from being pitch black is the sparkling moonlight pouring in from the window across the sheets, where you lay, tangled up deliciously in Armin’s sheets. 

He stands still above you for a moment, unable to move until he’d absorbed every inch of the scene before him. Your phone was unlocked and softly glowing, opened up to your messages with Armin. Your hair is slightly damp and matted, the smell of Armin’s shampoo floating around in the air. He recognizes the shirt lazily buttoned over you as one of his favourites and _oh god_ _oh god oh god_ you were wearing one of his boxers -- brand new ones he’d stashed in his dresser with the price tags still on them. His eyes can’t help but trace over the curves of your plush thighs all the way to the smooth heels of your feet. You’d buried your face into the sheets, the deep rising and falling of your back the only indication that you were sleeping and not dead from suffocation. You’ve always slept like that, ever since the two of you had been little kids. Armin chuckles at that thought and leans over to glance at your phone.

“ _ ill be back @ 12!! im so sorry u can come back later”  _ \- Armin

“ _ its fine u idiot ill wait”  _ \- You

He’d genuinely thought that he would’ve been back at twelve. The digits on your phone reads 3:14 AM, and a small surge of guilt pulses through him as he clicks it off. At least you’d managed to shower and figure out where the towels and everything were. 

You shift slightly in your sleep, and Armin freezes. Your hands trail down the sheets as you tilt your face up to squint at him. “Armin?”

Your voice is raspy and barely audible. “Hey,” He whispers. 

“What time is it?”

“Um. Three.” He mumbles, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“What?” You say, louder, before propping yourself up to check the screen of your phone. “Oh my god, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Armin replies hurriedly. “I’m sorry for making you wait so long, my stupid boss kept giving me more shit to do.” 

“I also kind of borrowed your shower,” You say, a faint blush tinting your cheeks. “And, um, your shirt. And your boxers. And your towels. And shampoo.”

“How’d you know where to find my new underwear?” He asks suspiciously, and you scoff.

“Are you serious? You still keep them in the exact compartment that your mom used to organize them in from, like, fourth grade.”

“Why do you  _ still _ remember that,” Armin groans, hiding his face in his hands in embarrassment. 

“I remember everything about you from when we were young,” You respond, but your voice comes out softer than you mean it to.

He slowly pulls his hands away from his face. His eyes are shockingly blue, even in the dark, and they stare at you intensely. A shiver runs down your spine, and the silence seems to grow even louder than before.

“I should go, it’s past my bedtime,” You laugh, turning away so that he couldn’t see your slightly flustered state. You didn’t know why you were feeling like this -- you’ve known Armin since you two were tiny little toddlers. You couldn’t remember a single time where it had been awkward, so what was this sudden tension in the air?

“Or you could stay,”

You freeze.

“I - I mean, it’s already three, and you’ve showered and everything, and neither of us have work tomorrow, and it’s really late and it’s not safe to drive this late at night alone and stuff while you’re tired -- ”

“Calm down, I’ll stay. Are you sure?” You interrupt, trying to hide the smile at how panicked he was. 

“Of course,” He exhales, calming down, and stands up. “I’ll sleep on the floor, don’t worry.”

You frown a little at that thought. Why was Armin acting differently all of a sudden? It changed the entire atmosphere that surrounded you two and you didn’t like it because you had no idea what it was. “Why? We’ve slept together in the same bed during all those sleepovers, might as well both be comfy.”

“True,” He says, whipping around as his entire body heats up at the thought of lying next to you. It had been nearly eight years since you two have had a sleepover, but he wasn’t about to remind you of that. “Let me go get ready.”

You smooth out the covers and lie back down comfortably, making sure that there was plenty of space next to you for Armin to lie down. Ignoring your racing pulse, you grab onto your phone with slightly trembling hands and squint at the bright screen. 

  
  
  


The mattress dips next to you, and your back is plunged in a sudden soft heat. The gentle aroma of mint toothpaste and cedarwood-vanilla hangs in the air, enveloping you in the familiarity of its warmth. Your eyes flutter open.

“Armin?”

“Did I wake you up again?”

“I wasn’t really sleeping, just dozing off,”

“You must be really tired,”

“Yeah…” You realize that if you were this tired, he must be exhausted, coming home this late. You wonder why he was urgently called in for work, and recall the way he’d sounded pretty frustrated recently about his new job whenever the two of you’d talked over the phone. You roll over to face him. “Hey -- ”

Suddenly, you’re wide awake. You’re met again with the intense, piercing gaze of his ocean eyes. His sweet breath fans over your face, kissing the tips of your lashes and making them flutter just the tiniest bit. The front of his body radiates heat onto yours, and the close proximity makes you feel as though you’re burning up -- you’re certain that your entire face is bright red.

He whispers your name, the syllables rolling off his tongue perfectly. 

Without thinking, you reach your hand up and place your knuckles over his cheeks. “You’re hot,”

He mirrors your actions. His hands are cold and smooth. “So are you,”

Your gaze trails back up to his, flicking back and forth from one eye to another. “Armin.”

He leans in, and his lips wrap around yours gently. They’re soft, moving ever so slightly against yours, as if he’s afraid of scaring you off. He treats you with such care, such quietness that it frustrates you almost immediately. Shutting off your mind and your racing thoughts, you focus on the feel of his heartbeat pounding against the palm of your hands and your tongue darts out to wipe at his bottom lip. You hear him inhale sharply before reciprocating, and your lips part to welcome him inside. 

His hands are like ice as they move, slowly, to trace the slight crevices along the edge of your jaw and down your throat. You shiver as he begins to kiss you deeper. He tastes like mint. 

You fist at the soft fabric of his shirt now, unable to stop yourself from tugging him closer to you, as close as he could possibly get. You were begging now, a desperate mess, pleading him for more with your hands. 

“I got you,” He pants, pulling away slightly before placing his hands on your waist. You pull him back, missing the feeling of him on your lips, and he manages to slip his leg in between the part of your knees. The first slight brush of his thigh against your core has you trembling uncontrollably at the feeling, and a small moan slips out from the back of your throat against his mouth.

He falters for a moment, unable to process the sound he’d just drawn out from you, before experimentally sliding his thigh back and forth.

You moan again, louder this time, before wrapping your hands around his shoulders to push yourself against him. You can feel the muscles of his thigh against your heat as he works himself harder, sliding back and forth in a steady motion.

“Armin,” You gasp out, nails digging into his shoulders, grinding into him. 

He lets out a low groan, before moving his leg to push up against you. The feeling of him against you is everything -- his thigh hitting the exact spot that drove you insane. He hits it again, and again, and again, until you’re a moaning, gasping mess. “God. God, you look --  _ so  _ \-- fucking good like this, y/n.”

You bite down on your lip, feeling slight tears starting to form at the corners of your eyes as you feel your climax building up in your lower abdomen. You push yourself against him harder, the feeling of your clit rolling against him pure bliss. “Keep - keep -- ”

“I got you,” He pants out again, leaning in to take your bottom lip in between his teeth and tugging. You can’t help but moan again at the feeling, now gripping at the waistband of his pants. 

He gasps, taking extra care to make sure that he was still moving against you in the same pace as you slipped your hand downwards. “Wait -- y/n -- ”

Your hand wraps around him, and you’re surprised to find him rock hard and twitching beneath your touch. 

“Oh my  _ god _ ,” He groans out from gritted teeth, before burying his face into the pillow. “Oh my  _ fucking god. _ ”

You’re unable to do anything but give him a couple of light squeezes as he picks up the pace, now furiously bouncing up against you. You tremble as you slide against him, and cry out, gripping onto him achingly with your other hand.

You stop breathing for a moment as a flash of white rips through you, shaking your entire body uncontrollably against Armin. You lay there, panting and shivering, your hand still wrapped around his length.

“ _ Fuck, _ y/n,” He breathes shakily. “You okay?”

Your heart is still racing as your eyes flutter open to meet his, but now you’ve decided to pay back the favour. Pulling your hand out of his pants, you sit up and push him back against his chest until he’s lying on his back, facing up at you. You shakily push yourself to your knees before swinging a leg over on the other side of him, shifting yourself back until you’re right above his clothed bulge.

“You don’t have to -- ”

“Shut up,” You say, biting your lip. “I’m making you pay for that.”

He nearly loses it when he sees your tongue flick out to swipe at your bottom lip before you pull his waistband down past his length. He turns away, embarrassed, but you stare down at him in admiration.

He was pale and pretty, smooth except for a couple veins running up. The tip of his cock was already dripping with precum, trickling down the sides. He jumped in your hands as you wrapped both of them around him. Your eyes meet his once more as he watches you, incredulous, as you lean down to close your lips around him.

“ _ Fucking hell, _ ” He hisses.

You work around him with your tongue, the slightly salty taste of his cum already flooding your mouth. He was big -- a lot bigger than you’d expected, to be honest -- and the feeling of him already hitting the back of your throat was making it hard for you to refrain from gagging on his cock. 

He can feel every strain, every tighten of the back of your throat against his tip, the muscles and slickness of your tongue caressing his sides. His hands wrench the sheets next to him furiously, knuckles white and shaking as he gasps. You’re doing so well --  _ so  _ well -- bobbing your head up and down and twisting your hands smoothly. He can’t help but buck his hips up into you a little bit, unable to stop himself from doing so.

At once, you pop yourself off of him, your lips slick with saliva and cum. “ _ Someone’s _ desperate,” You tease softly, giving him a few slow pumps up and down.

“ _ Please, _ y/n,” He whimpers, gasping as you speed up your hand movements and slow it back down. “Fucking god.”

You grin devilishly, eyes sparkling, as you bring yourself back down to him harder and faster than before, your tongue swirling around his tip. He whimpers, falling back onto his elbows, a hand reaching out to collect your hair into a ponytail. He tightens his hold on it as you move up and down, his cock hitting the back of throat deliciously with each bob. 

When he feels the familiar feeling of a climax bubbling up, he yanks you up by your hair and pulls you off of him swiftly before flipping you underneath. 

“Ow,” You gasp, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. He disregards this and slips his hand underneath your shirt, laying his hand flat on the base of your stomach. “What are you -- ”

His lips wrap around yours again, rougher and sloppier than last time. You feel his hands frantically working at the bottom button of his shirt on you, struggling to part the fabric because of his shaking hands. You reach down to help him, clawing at the shirt. At last, he growls irritatedly and pulls back to rip it open, buttons springing off and scattering everywhere. 

Both of you are breathing heavily, a panting and sweating mess, as you lean forward to pull his shirt up and off his head. His gaze focuses on your now bare body just visible in the dim moonlight, and you dismiss the desire to cover yourself up with your arms. You can feel his eyes burning into the depths of your collarbones, down to the small curves of your breasts, all the way to the indent of your bellybutton. In an instant, he’s back on you, latched onto your soft skin with his lips.

“Fuck, Armin,” You gasp, throwing your head back as you feel the slightly rough pads of his fingers massage the supple skin of your breast. He looks up at you and takes a tentative lick at your nipple, making you ten times more sensitive than you already had been.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” He mumbles, his cold touch trailing down from your breast, to your belly button, to slip underneath the boxers you were wearing. “You know that?”

You let out a loud exhale as you feel the tip of his finger trace patterns onto the delicate skin of your inner thigh. “Fuck, Armin, stop teasing me already.”

His eyes darken considerably at this, and you feel a thrill run down your back. Gone was the trembling, whimpering mess he’d been a moment ago -- now  _ you _ were fully in  _ his _ mercy. 

Wordlessly, he tugs off his boxers on you. You lift your hips to help him, and he tosses them aside onto the floor carelessly. “You okay?”

You nod, breathless in anticipation as you watch him place a kiss onto your stomach. His lips causes the muscles of your abdomen to tremble as they make their way down, lower and lower --

“Armin, I -- ” The feeling of his breath fanning over your heat is more than you can handle. When his tongue darts out to gently flick over your clit, your stomach is already churning in delight. Your thighs buckle and threaten to close over his face on instinct, but his hands instantly clutch at them and pull them apart wider, allowing him to move freer. 

He works his tongue faster in circular motions, using the wetness of you and his saliva to soothe your swollen clit. You hiss as you feel him slip in a single finger past your slit and into you, swirling it and bucking it to hit the perfect spot. Still overly sensitive from your recent orgasm, you’re already close and spasming into his face, writhing against the sheets. 

He pulls away.

You inhale sharply at the sudden coldness and absence of his touch, and blink up at him in confusion. “What -- what are you doing?”

Armin looks up at you, an innocent smirk curling up the corners of his lips slick with your juices. You watch him in growing frustration as he brings his finger up into his mouth, sucking and cleaning yourself off of him. 

“What are you doing?” You say louder, your mind still fuzzy and trying to grasp the situation. He swoops down alarmingly fast and licks a long, hot stripe all the way across your slit. You cry out and reach out to latch onto his blond locks. “Armin!”

You can feel your wetness trickling down the underside of your ass, and Armin is quick to lap them up with his tongue eagerly. “Maybe I’m playing around with you too much.”

You barely have time to process these words as he’s back onto you with a frightening pace. Two fingers slip into you easily, pumping in and out vigorously as the muscles of his tongue swirl sloppily against your clit. You’re seeing white again -- helplessly pushing yourself closer against his mouth -- but Armin lets you ride out your orgasm on his face. He works himself throughout your climax, sucking and pumping in that same furious pace until you can’t take it anymore. The overstimulation is too much for you to handle, and you can feel your tears tricking down the sides of your face as you sob in pleasure.

“Do you want a taste?” He says softly, hovering back up to your face as he presses his lips against yours. The taste of yourself floods into your mouth, and you moan breathlessly. “You taste  _ so fucking good, _ don’t you think?”

“Armin…” You pant out, staring up at him and he leans over to collect the wetness of your tears on your cheeks with his lips. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please just fuck me.”

He pulls back, his eyes wide and shining with lust. “Are you on the pill?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” He says, shooting you a sly grin. “I was planning to, anyway,”

He falls onto the bed next to you, before placing both his hands onto your hips and pulling you onto him securely. “Go for it, beautiful.”

You stare down at him, incredulous, the feeling of his heartbeat thumping underneath your hands. You didn’t have an issue with being the one on top, but you’d only ever rode someone maybe once or twice before, and that’d been a while ago. Still, the idea of being the one to take back control of the situation gives you a thrill.

You bring yourself up to position your slick against his cock, and he’s already moaning, his cheeks visibly blushing even in the darkness. He bucks upwards in anticipation, but you’re already pushing him back down with a hand placed firmly on his lower stomach. “I don’t think so.”

“You’re making it really hard to be patient, y/n,” He pants out, gripping onto your hips tightly. “I’m trying  _ so _ hard not to slam you down onto my fucking cock.”

You squeeze your eyes shut at the slight shiver his words give you, and breathe in deeply. After sliding back and forth a couple times to ensure that the both of you were slick and ready, you lower yourself down onto him. The feeling of his tip entering your body makes the both of you moan out, and you dig your nails into his hips. 

“You feel so fucking good, y/n, god -- ” He whimpers, his tight fingers on your hips gripping harder. You know they’ll leave bruises in the morning. 

You push yourself down onto him all the way in one go. You can feel every ridge of his cock, pushed against your walls snugly. He’s big and deep enough for his tip to just barely kiss the tip of your cervix, and although it isn’t exactly painful, you stay there for a moment to get used to his size. 

“I can’t,” He groans out.

“What?”

“I can’t do this anymore.”

In a flash, you’re under him. He removes one of his hands to intertwine with your fingers, his other still placed in an aching grip on your hip. He pulls back all the way until only the tip of his cock is in you, then slams you down onto him with your hips as he thrusts forward.

The sudden impact of skin on skin nearly has you screaming, but you find that you’re unable to make any noise -- instead, you’re barely breathing, mind blank in pure pleasure as he thrusts forward with an overpowering force. You can hear the embarrassingly lewd noises that your slick along with his makes, but you’re too blissed out to acknowledge it. All you can process is the feel of his cock throbbing and slamming up inside of you repeatedly in the perfect angle that leaves you breathless. 

“Already?” He chuckles, flustered, as he feels you clench unforgivingly around him from your third orgasm that night. “Fuck -- so tight -- you’re making this so hard for me, y/n.”

“Armin,” You whimper out, and he buries his face into the crook of your neck and your shoulder. You cry out in a mixture of pain and pleasure as you feel his teeth scrape against your throat, making his mark. He clamps down onto your shoulder with his incisors, causing you to dig your nails into his back with your free hand and drag it down.

He growls in annoyance and pulls out of you immediately, and you nearly sob at the loss of contact. “What are you doing, stop -- come back -- ”

“I need both of my hands,” He says, leaning over to yank open his dresser. He pulls out a plain black belt, the one he wears regularly to work, and snaps it threateningly before offering you a shy grin. “It’ll be more fun this way, don’t you think?”

An idea pops into your head, and you can’t stop the grin that crawls onto your face. “Fun,”

You snatch the belt from his grasp, and before he can react, you’ve snapped it down onto his inner thigh. “For  _ me. _ It’ll be fun for me.” 

He lets out a moan, much to his embarrassment, before covering his face with his hand. “Y - Y/n. Stop playing around. Give me the belt.”

“Let me have my fun,” You say shyly, leaning forward to grip onto his wrists and secure the belt around them. “You can have your turn after.”

“I - I can’t fucking wait any longer,” He moans, as you prop yourself back up onto him.

“Who says you have to wait?”

You’re slamming yourself down onto him before he can reply, and the both of you are already close from the first thrust. You bounce up and down, as hard and as fast as you can, making sure to clench your muscles around him ever so often. “Armin, come on -- ”

He’s undoing the belt around his wrists with his teeth, yanking it off of him furiously before reaching out to grab onto your hips. Before you can complain, he’s pulled you up and rammed you down onto his cock harder than ever. 

“Let me help you,” He pants out, and you nearly collapse at the forceful thrusts. Giving up, you allow him to flip the two of you over so that you were underneath him once more. “You’re -- doing -- so  _ fucking _ good -- let me help you.”

He knows just how to thrust -- just  _ where _ to hit. The tip of cock hitting every single possible spot that makes you see stars -- the length of him sliding past your walls and sending pleasure shooting through your veins. His hands are plucking at your nipples desperately, almost harshly, and you’re so close that it hurts. You don’t even need to feel your tears streaming down your face to know that you’re sobbing -- you were so overwhelmed with pleasure that it was impossible not to. 

“You look so pretty crying like that,” He murmurs, a hand shooting out to grip onto the headboard for support. He thrusts into you harder than ever, and you’re whining, moaning, shaking -- the undeniable orgasm threatening to topple you over in waves. “Crying for my cock like that.”

“Armin,” Is all you can manage to gasp out when you feel him use his thumb to gently caress your clit. This is all it takes to send you over, and you come -- harder than before, harder than you’ve ever came in your entire life -- you can’t breathe. 

You can feel his cock pulsate inside of you and he lets go of the headboard, leaning down to wrap his arms around your waist as he gives you a final bruising thrust. The feeling of something hot and wet shoots deep into you, and he cries out, his nails digging into the soft skin of your waist. 

  
  
  


The two of you stay like that for a while, panting and sweating and trying to catch your breaths. You’re sticky and he’s hot and you’re  _ exhausted _ .

“You okay?” He asks throatily, placing a gentle kiss onto your forehead before slowly pulling out of you, a web of his cum trailing from between your legs. “Come on, I’ll clean you up.”

You nod, but lay still. You can’t bring yourself to move -- the ache in your lower stomach, the strain of your thighs, and the bruises on your hips are already starting to become more and more noticeable. He chuckles and leans in to cradle you into his arms.

  
“You know, I’d  _ just _ taken a shower,” You say accusingly as he carries you to his bathroom.


End file.
